O'Connor: Yankee haunted by brush with death

The Record

TAMPA, Fla. – Bodies and blood were all over the desert freeway, and somehow Cody Ransom landed on his feet. He was standing upright inside a flipped 15-passenger van, death and dying all around him, and he had no idea how or why he was chosen to live.

His feet had plunged through a shattered window and were planted firmly on the ground. The van belonging to the South Mountain Community College baseball team had blown its right rear tire on Interstate 10 in Arizona, crashed into a Palo Verde tree and rolled over two or three times on its catastrophic tumble from the fast lane to the other side.

This was long before Ransom ever could dream of a career with the Yankees, never mind the job of Alex Rodriguez’s replacement at third. Cody was a walk-on at South Mountain, and more than 1,200 prospects had been taken before him in the ’95 draft.

Ransom was a 43rd-round pick just trying to convince a Division I team to rescue him from the never-never land of junior college sports.

But on the afternoon of March 29, 1996, Ransom was the luckiest ballplayer on the face of the Earth. He was on his way to a doubleheader at Cochise CC in Douglas, traveling with a dozen teammates and the 13-year-old son of his head coach, George Lopez, when their world literally turned upside down.

“We spun sideways before we started rolling,” Ransom said the other day, “and I just turned to my side and put my feet out, not knowing what to do. I remember the first time we flipped, the windows broke and all the dust came in.

“I just closed my eyes. I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept my eyes shut and waited and hoped.”

Ransom opened his eyes when the violent sounds of steel and glass meeting asphalt finally quieted, replaced by the desperate screams of his friends. Near the back of the van, Cody was South Mountain’s last man standing, suffering only minor cuts on his forehead and back. But before him was a scene of unspeakable horror. Tommie Eaton, the 19-year-old pitcher and van driver, was crushed behind the wheel. Alfred “Junior” Stell, a 19-year-old catcher sitting a row behind Ransom, was among the many players thrown out of the vehicle.

“The scene was complete carnage,” said Mark Wheeler, Ransom’s close friend and an assistant under Lopez. The coaches were traveling in the lead vehicle on the three-van trip; they wanted to ensure the players driving the other two vehicles maintained a safe speed. This was the low-budget reality of JUCO baseball – kids asked to do a man’s job on the road.

Most players weren’t wearing seat belts. They were too busy laughing and singing on their way to a doubleheader, having the time of their lives.

A motorist caught up to the coaches to tell them about the accident in their wake.

“The van was on its side,” Wheeler said, “and there were bodies everywhere. The whole freeway had come to a standstill; there were helicopters flying in. It was surreal, just like a scene in the movies.

“The players were all bleeding. George’s son, Chris, was beat up pretty good, and we had towels and blankets covering him and all the players. We had kids thrown 100 yards away from where the van stopped rolling, and yet Cody was standing straight up inside. It was mind-boggling that he escaped like that.”

Eaton and Stell made no such escape. Stell was among the critically injured players flown to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

Eaton remained trapped in the van. “Tommie drove every trip,” Ransom said. “Tommie and Junior were great kids, very religious.”

The first responders couldn’t get Eaton out from behind the wheel. They told the South Mountain players and coaches there was nothing they could do.

“We all struggled to try to get him out,” Wheeler said. “He was one of our kids, and we didn’t want to see him suffer. We could reach in and hold his hand, but we got no response.”

Ransom and his teammates attended the two funerals, skipped a few games and then returned to baseball to honor their lost friends. Some got tattoos as a tribute to Eaton and Stell. Ransom wore a T-shirt depicting two crossed baseball bats and the players’ jersey numbers, 7 and 16.

The accident left permanent scars. Born and raised in Arizona, Ransom came to fear any trip on I-10. He nearly panicked when he blew out a tire driving his truck — only a year after the crash — before safely pulling off the road.

“I became phobic about all tires on my cars,” he said. Every time he’d see a car disabled on a highway shoulder he’d flash back to the bodies and the blood.

He hated those small-college and minor league van rides, too, and Ransom endured far too many to count. After stops at Mesa State and Grand Canyon University, the Giants drafted Ransom in the ninth round in ’98 and sent him on an endless odyssey across the fringes of his big-league ambitions.

Ransom had 4,111 minor league at-bats, and only 140 in the bigs with the Giants and Astros, by the time the Yankees promoted him last August. The utility infielder became the first man in franchise history to homer in his first two at bats.

Ransom hit .302 with four homers and eight RBI, and made the last putout in Yankee Stadium history on Brian Roberts’ slow grounder to first. Ransom handed the ball to Mariano Rivera. “It was hard to let it go,” he said.

So was the worst day of his life. On Sept. 5, 2001, his big-league debut, Ransom wore his T-shirt tribute to Eaton and Stell beneath his jersey.

“What happened that day,” Ransom said, “makes you appreciate everything you have and how lucky you are.”

Now he’s a $455,100 replacement for a $305 million third baseman. Ransom’s athleticism and leaping ability have made for a YouTube hit, and he’s got something of a pinstriped pedigree: His grandfather, Roy, was a Yankee minor-leaguer.

“Alex is not replaceable,” Ransom said, “but just being here is unbelievable to me. I’m playing with some of the greatest players ever, and people like Yogi, Reggie, Goose and Gator are having lunch with me. Not a lot of guys get that opportunity.”

Not a lot of guys can seize that opportunity after weathering more than 4,000 minor league at bats. It’s a good story, and one that doesn’t need to end with the long shot lasting as A-Rod’s replacement.

O'Connor: Yankee haunted by brush with death

TAMPA, Fla. – Bodies and blood were all over the desert freeway, and somehow Cody Ransom landed on his feet. He was standing upright inside a flipped 15-passenger van, death and dying all around him, and he had no idea how or why he was chosen to live.

His feet had plunged through a shattered window and were planted firmly on the ground. The van belonging to the South Mountain Community College baseball team had blown its right rear tire on Interstate 10 in Arizona, crashed into a Palo Verde tree and rolled over two or three times on its catastrophic tumble from the fast lane to the other side.

This was long before Ransom ever could dream of a career with the Yankees, never mind the job of Alex Rodriguez’s replacement at third. Cody was a walk-on at South Mountain, and more than 1,200 prospects had been taken before him in the ’95 draft.

Ransom was a 43rd-round pick just trying to convince a Division I team to rescue him from the never-never land of junior college sports.

But on the afternoon of March 29, 1996, Ransom was the luckiest ballplayer on the face of the Earth. He was on his way to a doubleheader at Cochise CC in Douglas, traveling with a dozen teammates and the 13-year-old son of his head coach, George Lopez, when their world literally turned upside down.

“We spun sideways before we started rolling,” Ransom said the other day, “and I just turned to my side and put my feet out, not knowing what to do. I remember the first time we flipped, the windows broke and all the dust came in.

“I just closed my eyes. I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept my eyes shut and waited and hoped.”

Ransom opened his eyes when the violent sounds of steel and glass meeting asphalt finally quieted, replaced by the desperate screams of his friends. Near the back of the van, Cody was South Mountain’s last man standing, suffering only minor cuts on his forehead and back. But before him was a scene of unspeakable horror. Tommie Eaton, the 19-year-old pitcher and van driver, was crushed behind the wheel. Alfred “Junior” Stell, a 19-year-old catcher sitting a row behind Ransom, was among the many players thrown out of the vehicle.

“The scene was complete carnage,” said Mark Wheeler, Ransom’s close friend and an assistant under Lopez. The coaches were traveling in the lead vehicle on the three-van trip; they wanted to ensure the players driving the other two vehicles maintained a safe speed. This was the low-budget reality of JUCO baseball – kids asked to do a man’s job on the road.

Most players weren’t wearing seat belts. They were too busy laughing and singing on their way to a doubleheader, having the time of their lives.

A motorist caught up to the coaches to tell them about the accident in their wake.

“The van was on its side,” Wheeler said, “and there were bodies everywhere. The whole freeway had come to a standstill; there were helicopters flying in. It was surreal, just like a scene in the movies.

“The players were all bleeding. George’s son, Chris, was beat up pretty good, and we had towels and blankets covering him and all the players. We had kids thrown 100 yards away from where the van stopped rolling, and yet Cody was standing straight up inside. It was mind-boggling that he escaped like that.”

Eaton and Stell made no such escape. Stell was among the critically injured players flown to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

Eaton remained trapped in the van. “Tommie drove every trip,” Ransom said. “Tommie and Junior were great kids, very religious.”

The first responders couldn’t get Eaton out from behind the wheel. They told the South Mountain players and coaches there was nothing they could do.

“We all struggled to try to get him out,” Wheeler said. “He was one of our kids, and we didn’t want to see him suffer. We could reach in and hold his hand, but we got no response.”

Ransom and his teammates attended the two funerals, skipped a few games and then returned to baseball to honor their lost friends. Some got tattoos as a tribute to Eaton and Stell. Ransom wore a T-shirt depicting two crossed baseball bats and the players’ jersey numbers, 7 and 16.

The accident left permanent scars. Born and raised in Arizona, Ransom came to fear any trip on I-10. He nearly panicked when he blew out a tire driving his truck — only a year after the crash — before safely pulling off the road.

“I became phobic about all tires on my cars,” he said. Every time he’d see a car disabled on a highway shoulder he’d flash back to the bodies and the blood.

He hated those small-college and minor league van rides, too, and Ransom endured far too many to count. After stops at Mesa State and Grand Canyon University, the Giants drafted Ransom in the ninth round in ’98 and sent him on an endless odyssey across the fringes of his big-league ambitions.